


ang tanong ng mga kampana

by inkwellAnomaly



Category: Noli Me Tangere & Related Works - José Rizal
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Canon Continuation, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, M/M, Set right after Makamisa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-30
Updated: 2018-11-20
Packaged: 2019-08-11 01:52:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16466447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkwellAnomaly/pseuds/inkwellAnomaly
Summary: Two years after the wedding of Paulita, Ysagani reunites with Basilio.





	1. Reunion

There was currently a great number of things occupying Ysagani’s mind.

Although it had been an uneventful day at the tribunal office, Ysagani felt fatigued, having spent the whole afternoon thinking about the happenings of the recent week. It was the week after Holy Week, and the elections for gobernadorcillo were coming up. The town of Pili was still abuzz with gossip about Fray Agaton’s foul mood since two weeks prior, with the most popular conjecture being that he was heartbroken over Cecilia, Capitan Panchong’s beautiful daughter. Ysagani himself didn’t know what to think - he had at least resolved to remain neutral regarding the issue, as his uncle, Fray Florentino, was the new assistant parish priest, and anything he said or did against Fray Agaton’s wishes could be taken against his uncle.

As the church bells rang five times, signaling the end of the workday, Ysagani packed up his things, getting ready to go home. He intended to pass by the house of Capitan Panchong and inquire about Cecilia, who for the last two days had mysteriously shut herself in her room despite her mother’s scolding.

The twilight was beginning to set in, and Ysagani was just about to leave when a stranger walked into the tribunal office.

“I’m sorry, señor, but the office is–”

“Isagani?”

It was none other than Basilio, the medical student, Ysagani’s old friend!

“What are you doing here?” Ysagani asked.

“I could ask you the same thing. Look, this is no place to talk. I do not want anyone knowing of our connection. Please, let us continue this conversation tonight at the house of Dr. Lopez.”

 

That night, after making sure the rest of the town was asleep, Ysagani snuck out of his boarding house and made his way to Dr. Lopez’ mansion.

Dr. Lopez wordlessly welcomed him in, and led him upstairs to a small bedroom. Inside was Basilio, sitting at a desk.

Ysagani sat down on one of the chairs. The two of them were silent for a time.

“Where have you been all this time?” Ysagani finally asked.

“I’ve been traveling from town to town, working as a physician. I never finished my studies, but the people around here seem to appreciate my help. And you?”

“...I moved back with my uncle. Around two years ago he was offered a position here as assistant parish priest, which he accepted. He told me he felt lonely in Tiani.”

“And you’ve been working as a clerk here?”

“For the past year, yes.”

“But what about becoming a lawyer?”

“I make enough money here, and I live simply. I have no more desire to live out the foolish ambitions of my youth,” Ysagani said bitterly.

The two fell to talking about trivial things, as they often did when they were friends. Basilio explained how he had come to town to work as Dr. Lopez’ assistant, the two having met in another town while he was there on business.

“Isagani. I know this offer may be falling on deaf ears, but I’d still like to extend it to you.”

“What kind of offer is it?”

“I’m planning something, and I would like you to be a part of it.”

“What are you planning?”

“A revolution.”

“A revolution! Dios mio!”

“Yes! I’ve spent the past two years building connections, making plans,” Basilio explained excitedly. “Dr. Lopez is an old friend of Simoun, and he’s agreed to fund the attack! We strike this week at the provincial capital, and once we obtain those additional supplies, we can move on to other provinces, and eventually Manila!”

“Who are you working with?” Ysagani asked, alarmed.

“The group of bandits once led by Matanglawin! You knew him as Cabesang Tales. And there’s also Placido Pentitente, our friend from the student organization! He’s currently gathering funds through the connections of his mother!”

“A revolution! You’re really planning one!” Ysagani said in disbelief. “Basilio, please be sensible–”

“No! No, for God’s sake, no! I’ve suffered at the hands of these Spaniards long enough– I’ve lost my mother, my brother, and even Juli,” Basilio said, his voice breaking at the mention of his now dead sweetheart.

“I know you’re hurting, but–”

“Yes, I’m hurting, and so is the rest of the country! Don’t you support me, Isagani? Where is my friend who yearned for a land that was free from Spanish oppression? Where has that Isagani gone?!”

“He’s dead! He died that fateful night, and only his empty body stands before you!”

“–I’ll tell you a tale. Fifteen years ago a man named Crisostomo Ibarra returned from Europe to establish a school in his hometown, only to have everything taken away from him by those wretched friars. He sought revenge, but he failed, and now he is dead!”

Isagani nodded solemnly. His uncle had told him about Simoun, how he had come to him in his residence in Tiani seeking refuge before.

“I’m not finished. Simoun may be dead, but he left something behind! He left behind his ideals, and those ideals are alive within me! Tell me, Isagani, don’t you wish to see this country and all the sinners in it to be burned to the ground?”

“Even when I did want freedom for these islands, I wanted them through reforms and education! Bloodshed will achieve nothing,” Ysagani argued. “Please, Basilio, just give it up. Stay here in this town, with me, and we will be friends once more,”

“If you were really my friend, you’d join me!”

Ysagani was taken aback. Before long, his friend began weeping bitter tears.

“I have no one. Everyone, everyone I’ve ever loved is dead. My mother, my brother, my beloved Juli, even Capitan Tiago, who allowed me to study and gave me a roof over my head.”

Ysagani remained silent. He struggled with what to say next.

“And so will you forsake me as well, my old friend? Will you leave me, like on the night of the wedding?”

“You are mistaken! I did not intend to leave you that night, I only wanted to save Paulita!”

Basilio continued to weep. Ysagani embraced him.

The two of them would have a great deal more to discuss that night.


	2. Conversations

_Verae amicitiae sempiternae sunt_

 

The townspeople had initially been wary of Basilio due to his association with Dr. Lopez, whom they blatantly accused of being a _filibustero_ , but by the end of April they treated Basilio as if he had lived in Pili all his life. As he treated more and more patients, his skill in medicine became known throughout the town, with many coming to him for his prescriptions. Some even preferred his advice over that of Dr. Lopez, due to his arrogant disposition and anti-clerical views.

When Basilio was not treating patients, he socialized with the townspeople; he talked about politics with Atty. Paquito, gossiped with Hermana Sebia, and played with Anday’s little daughter. He had fully adapted to life in Pili, a fact he had told Ysagani during their afternoon walks along the town plaza after work. What they had talked about two weeks prior was never brought up again - it was not something they had agreed upon, but both men decided by themselves not to mention it to the other. For Basilio’s part, he pretended to have never planned it to Dr. Lopez, who was, despite being dismayed, ultimately supportive of Basilio’s decision, probably fearing he would lose his loyal assistant otherwise.

“Old Clodio’s scabies are slowly subsiding, thankfully,” Basilio explained during another one of their walks. “I’m glad he followed my prescription.”

“He always did believe in the power of science rather than faith,” Ysagani noted. “He reminds me of that old man in San Diego you told me about once.”

“Philosopher Tacio? Yes, although Old Clodio is a bit more brusque.”

The two burst into laughter, causing a group of _hermanas_ walking nearby to turn their heads.

“Oh, and Isagani, I felt that it would be pertinent to tell you,” Basilio began.

“What is it?”

“I think that girl Cecilia is in love with you.”

“Preposterous! We are merely friends!”

“But look at the way she looks at you!” Basilio exclaimed. “You’d better be careful, or Fray Agaton will have you put in the stocks.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Ysagani replied. “Cecilia is beautiful and kind, but I could never see her as more than a friend. Besides, he and my uncle are good friends.”

“I see, I see... “

“It seems as though life in this town is treating you well,” Ysagani remarked.

“Yes, it is. It reminds me of home, although I think the people here are much louder.”

“Probably because of all the coffee they drink!” Ysagani joked.

Basilio was silent for a time before Ysagani resumed the discussion.

“–Do you ever think of going back?”

Basilio shook his head. “Perhaps when more time has passed–the wounds on my heart are still fresh. All that exist for me there are the old house of Capitan Tiago, the grave of my mother, and the field of flowers where Juli and I met.”

Ysagani could understand Basilio’s sentiment - he himself had not returned to Tiani ever since his uncle had transferred to Pili; for some reason, he had wanted to leave that part of his life behind. He no longer entertained the thoughts that dominated his mind in his youth - of revolution, poetry, and love. One could say that the old Ysagani was no more, replaced by this stranger who bore his name. Such is the process of maturity!

After talking of more trivial things, the two went their respective ways to retire for the night. One could observe that, since his arrival two weeks prior, Basilio’s face was fuller, his cheeks had regained their color, and the melancholy his eyes always betrayed had seemed to lessen. Whenever he walked through town, the people would greet him amiably, tipping their hats or waving hello. He had cured many people, and for that they were indebted to him.

As the showers of May began, Ysagani found himself spending more time indoors with Basilio, usually bringing over a good book or a cup of _tsokolate_ and discussing the latest happenings in town. Capitan Tanukang had been elected as _gobernadorcillo_ , Fray Agaton’s mood had worsened even more, and Capitana Barang had won a large sum of money in her gambling. Dr. Lopez had left for Manila on business, entrusting his house to Basilio. Ysagani would then visit after work; work at the tribunal office was dull anyway, and so Ysagani enjoyed his old friend’s company.

“You know, my uncle said he was overjoyed when he found out you were hired by Dr. Lopez,” Ysagani explained. “He said he had missed you ever since you disappeared two years ago.”

“I did not disappear,” Basilio replied. “I simply hid myself for the meantime, in order to plan…”

Basilio stopped himself there. He remembered his decision not to bring up the revolution, which by this stage had been aborted. He had not heard from the bandits nor Placido since coming to Pili.

“Forgive me for bringing up the past, but–that night, the night of the wedding, how did you know about the lamp? Were you Simoun’s accomplice?”

“Yes,” Basilio answered. “He had taken me in, and had made me his protege. I dreamed of continuing his legacy, up until…”

“Up until what?”

“Until you saved me, my friend. You saved me from my anger, which I had drowned in for years. For that, I am truly grateful.”

Ysagani smiled at Basilio.

“Have you heard from your father lately?” Basilio asked.

“–He’s still in Cavite, delivering a shipment of piña silk,” Ysagani explained.

Despite them having mended their relationship, Ysagani still felt a hint of resentment towards his father, whom they had thought was dead. After Ysagani’s mother had learned she was pregnant, Ysagani’s father, a traveling merchant, fled Tiani, and never came back. How ironic, Ysagani thought, that he would run into him here, of all places.

In the middle of May, Ysagani was on his way to visit Basilio after work when he saw a man in a salakot being welcomed in by Basilio. Ysagani was intrigued, as he had never seen that man in town before; he went and rushed inside Dr. Lopez’ house as well.

Inside, he found the mysterious man and Basilio discussing something in hushed tones. Basilio saw him and stopped their conversation. The man in the salakot then bowed and went back out. Ysagani tried following after him, but was stopped by Basilio.

“Who was that?” Ysagani questioned.

Basilio decided to be honest. “He is a messenger for Matanglawin’s bandits. They sent him to look for me in this town and ask why I had not been in contact with them.”

“And what did you say?”

Basilio looked at Ysagani, deep in thought.

“I said that I was busy with my work here,” he finally said. “I also requested that, from now on, they leave me out of whatever they are planning.”

Ysagani knew he could not persuade Basilio to abort the plans completely, but it made him happy nonetheless that Basilio had relinquished his involvement.

For him, that was enough.


	3. Times Past

Ysagani was spending another afternoon with Basilio at the house of Dr. Lopez, percolating over his cup of _tsokolate_.

“Do you remember how we met?” he asked.

“It was at your uncle’s house, I remember,” Basilio responded. “Capitan Tiago was there to visit him and had brought me along.”

“I was about five years old at the time. Although, I just remembered, my uncle had told me something right before Capitan Tiago introduced us.”

“What did he say?”

“‘Aning, you be nice to this boy.’”

Basilio seemed touched by the remark. “He really said that?”

“Yes. I also overheard him talking to Capitan Tiago a few days before we met.”

 

Ysagani recounted what he could remember, attempting to make sense of his fragmented memories from a time long past.

He had been playing with a wooden _trumpo_ \- a birthday gift from his uncle - when he saw Capitan Tiago enter their house and go into the study, where his uncle was. After continuing to play for a while, the young Ysagani could not contain his curiosity, and pressed his ear against the door to listen in on their conversation.

“I hear you’ve taken in a child yourself,” he heard his uncle say.

“A few weeks ago,” Capitan Tiago replied. “His name is Basilio. He is a good boy, but very sickly.”

“You should hire a doctor then.”

“I’ve already taken care of that matter. What I came here for is... to ask you a favor.”

“What is it?” Fray Florentino asked.

“Your nephew, Isagani… I would like it if you introduced him to Basilio. Due to the circumstances of his youth, he has been left without much people to talk to; he barely knows any Spanish, so I imagine it is difficult for him to befriend other boys his age. I’d very much like it if he had at least one friend.”

It was at this point that Ysagani feared being discovered, and so he ran back to his place on the floor and resumed playing with his _trumpo_.

 

“So in other words, your uncle and Capitan Tiago orchestrated everything,” Basilio said, a look of incredulity on his face.

“Something like that. Of course, I really did enjoy your company,” Ysagani remarked.

“Thank you. Your kind words warm my heart.” Basilio replied, smiling. Ysagani noticed how his friend had grown less and less taciturn the longer he stayed in Pili. He was grateful for that.

“How did you end up being adopted by Capitan Tiago, anyway? You were born in San Diego, and Capitan Tiago lives in Manila,” Ysagani asked. He had not wanted to pry, and yet he felt like he had to, in order to know his friend better.

Basilio sighed. “My tale is not a happy one. Are you sure you want to hear it?”

“Of course,” Ysagani replied.

Basilio then related to him his story, how his brother had disappeared and how his mother had gone mad before dying; he told Ysagani how he had fled San Diego, not having anyone to turn to, and by chance had met Capitan Tiago.

Ysagani knew the rest of the tale. He knew that Basilio had studied thanks to his foster father, and had planned on marrying his sweetheart Juli before she died as well.

“I’m sorry to burden you with such memories,” Ysagani said after Basilio finished telling his story.

“It’s alright. At least you know my past.”

“Just as you know mine.”

Basilio smiled a bittersweet smile.

“Yes, just as I know yours.”

As the showers of May intensified into the downpours of June, the townspeople eventually became relieved when Fray Agaton’s mood returned to normal - he was once again the forceful but kind priest they adored so much.

“Cecilia has not shown her face in public for days,” Basilio remarked as Ysagani carried in two cups of _tsokolate_.

“Yes, I’ve heard she is ill. Perhaps we should visit her,” Ysagani replied.

“It’s really this weather that’s the problem. The cook at the church has also fallen ill.”

“Menang? My uncle told me about her, the poor woman. He was hoping that you’d visit her as well, if you could find the time.”

“When the weather improves,” Basilio said. “I cannot afford to walk around too much in this rain.”

“I will buy you an umbrella then,” Ysagani chided him.

“I think I am capable enough to buy my own umbrellas!”

The two burst into laughter.

“Have you heard from Dr. Lopez?” Ysagani asked.

“He’s still in Manila. He sent me a letter, asking me how things were here and informing me that he’d be returning next week.”

Ysagani grew serious.

“Any word from the outlaws? Or Placido?” he asked.

Basilio shook his head.

“None, thankfully. I think they have finally left me alone,” he said with a sigh of relief.

“That’s good. If they disturb your peaceful life here, I’ll drive them out of town myself.”

Basilio was surprised at his friend’s words. It had been a long time since he had seen him so passionate - not since they were students.

“You know,” Ysagani began. “I’ve resumed my poetry.”

“That’s wonderful! What inspired you to resume?”

“To be honest? You.”

Basilio looked at Ysagani, unsure of what to say.

“I’d always written about Paulita before I stopped, and I thought it would be good to write about something else.”

“I don’t know what to say,” Basilio said, his mouth forming into a smile. “I’m quite honored.”

“Poems need not be about love. They can also be about friendship.”

“You say that with such authority. Perhaps there’s still time for you to become a great poet.”

Ysagani let out a small chuckle.

“A great poet working as a tribunal clerk. Perhaps God finds amusement and making our lives ironic.”

Basilio paused, and thought about how he saved lives for a living, and yet endured many deaths in his life.

“Perhaps,” he replied, smiling bitterly.


	4. Regret and Gratitude

_Kahoy mang babad sa tubig, kapag nadarang sa apoy sapilitang magdirikit_

 

August began, and as with every year the people of Pili became equal parts excited and anxious for their town fiesta. The _hermanas_ were the busiest, ordering the flowers, making arrangements with the band, ordering the images of the saints and enlisting the people for the procession - the one with her hands full was poor Hermana Sebia, who was rushing to scrounge together enough money as she was financing the entire operation!

After work had finished one Wednesday, Ysagani invited Basilio to climb the nearby mountain with him. Pili was next to an inactive volcano, with hot springs and rivers. Now was the best time to enjoy them, as tourists were rare that time of year, Ysagani had said. Basilio, noting that the townspeople were generally in good health and certain that they would not miss him if he was gone for a day, accepted his friend’s offer. On Saturday morning, they met at the town plaza and made their way to the mountain, past the _barrios_ \- thankfully, the collapsed bridge had finished being repaired last month thanks to Capitan Tanukang.

The sun was high in the sky by the time they arrived at the clearing where the river was. There were several empty bathing houses surrounding the area. Ysagani and Basilio set down their things and took off their shoes, rolling their pants up to wade in the river. Ysagani was tempted to splash some water at his friend before putting the thought out of his mind.

“The water is refreshing,” Basilio remarked, a smile beginning to form on his face.

Ysagani stared at his friend - he was quite handsome, with his deep-set eyes and thin lips. Ysagani had recalled that, during their days as students, several women had told him they fancied him.

“It’s good that we’ve had this time to be at ease. Although it’s not like I had much work these past few weeks anyway,” Basilio continued.

“Yes,” Ysagani replied. “Everyone’s healthy now thanks to you and Dr. Lopez.”

“Don’t be silly. Despite everything I do there’s still a part that’s up to Lady Fate.”

“How poetic,” Ysagani said, laughing. Before long they were exchanging jokes and splashing water at each other.

After a while, the two became tired and sat on the shore, eating their packed lunch. When the parish cook Menang had heard they were going on a trip to the river, she insisted on cooking her famous _tapa_.

“I’ve been thinking about the past more lately,” Ysagani suddenly began. “I’ve stopped trying to block my memories from flowing.”

“And why is that?” Basilio asked.

“I’m not sure. Perhaps I’ve just had more time to reflect; all this reflection has made me realize some things.” Ysagani said, turning to Basilio.

“I’m sorry I was not a good friend. When you needed me, my mind was occupied with Paulita; whenever we were together, that woman was all I talked about. The way I acted, it was not worthy of the affection you gave me. For that, I’m truly sorry.”

At the end of Ysagani’s apology, Basilio cleared his throat, and began his own.

“I must apologize myself. It was not you who left me that night, but the other way around. I had abandoned you, afraid of my own life. I should have insisted that you come with me.”

“But I’m alive now, aren’t I?” Ysagani said, smiling.

“Yes, I suppose that’s all that is important,” Basilio replied. He had a look of tenderness in his eyes.

“Oh! I have something for you,” Ysagani said, reaching inside his pocket. He took out a bracelet strung with tiny seashells. “Happy birthday.”

“Is it today? I can’t believe I’ve forgotten,” Basilio said, surprised.

“I know you don’t celebrate it, but I thought it would be good to give you a gift.” He pressed the bracelet into Basilio’s hands. “These seashells are from a secluded part of the shores in Tiani, where I would go to play when I was young. They’re my fondest memory of that town.”

“And I will cherish it. Thank you, Isagani.”

“You’re most welcome, my friend.”

 

By the time they’d arrived back in town, the sun was just about to set. They were welcomed back by Fray Florentino, who kissed Ysagani’s forehead in affection before greeting Basilio a happy birthday.

“Your uncle is a good man,” Basilio said on their walk back to the house of Dr. Lopez. “I am happy he is in good health.”

“Yes, I’m thankful for that too,” replied Ysagani. “He considers you family, you know.”

Basilio was silent. He smiled, but his eyes seemed melancholy.

“I am most fortunate then. It seems lately that I’ve run out of family.”

“You have me as well,” Ysagani affirmed. “I’ll be your family.”

“Thank you, my friend.”

 

It was later that night, while Ysagani was poring over a poem and Basilio was arranging his documents, that Ysagani resumed their conversation.

“I hope it doesn’t trouble you when I ask this, but… What was your family like?”

“Well, there was me, my brother, and my mother and father. My father was always away, spending his time in the cockpit, so I didn’t have much of a relationship with him,” Basilio said, no hint of bitterness in his voice. Ysagani sympathized with him over his absent father.

“My mother… She was very kind. She endured my father’s beatings and cooked me wild boar and duck’s leg whenever she could.”

“And your brother?”

“Oh, he was so clever! Philosopher Tacio himself even said so. He would come up with riddles and ask so many questions - _Why is the sky blue? How do plants grow? Why can’t we talk to animals?_ ” Basilio said, remembering his fonder memories.

“I’m sure he would have been a captivating to talk to,” Ysagani remarked.

Basilio looked at him with sad eyes, and smiled.

“He would.”


	5. Flowers

It was the day before the fiesta - decorations were hung from windows of the houses, the images of the saints were all lined up inside the church, the servants of the wealthy households were cooking in a frenzy, and Fray Agaton himself had prepared a special sermon. News had also spread of Anday’s new work as a maid for Capitan Tanukang; apparently her old masters were too much for her to handle.

Ysagani was making his way to the tribunal office that morning when he spied a commotion in the town plaza. The people were gathered around someone, although he couldn’t see who it was. He cautiously drew nearer, eager to see what all the fuss was about; while the townspeople of Pili were an easily shaken bunch, they did not usually act this way unless there was something truly worrisome.

As Ysagani pushed his way through the crowd, he heard the people’s shouts.

“Oh, the poor man!”

“ _Dios mio,_  is he dead?”

“Someone call Dr. Lopez! _Susmariosep_!”

At the center of the crowd was a disheveled man, a beggar by the looks of it. He had collapsed in the town plaza.

Ysagani pushed his way back out of the crowd and hurried to the house of Dr. Lopez.

 

Ysagani had been tasked with carrying the man to the house, as he was one of the few young men within the town. Assisted by Cecilio and Silvino (the two were on speaking terms again) they carried the beggar to Dr. Lopez’ house. Ysagani held open the door, and Cecilio and Silvino brought the beggar inside.

“Set him down on the bed there. Basilio, fetch some cold water and some food,” Dr. Lopez ordered him. Basilio did as told, and came back with a glass of cold water and a basket of _pan de sal_. Dr. Lopez then splashed the cold water on the beggar’s face. He woke up with a start, and began mumbling.

“It seems he’s lost his mind,” Dr. Lopez remarked. “He may have to stay here for a while. Insane or not, he’s certainly in bad condition.”

Basilio then reached some bread to the beggar, who snatched it from him and ate it like he was starving.

Cecilio and Silvino excused themselves, unnerved by what was happening. Basilio himself paled at the sight of the beggar, who was still munching on the bread from the basket.

Ysagani was about to leave when Basilio stopped him.

“What’s the matter? You seem nervous,” Ysagani said.

“I recognize the beggar,” Basilio replied. “He is Juli’s brother, Tano.”

 

News of the beggar’s condition spread quickly throughout the town, the people’s excitement for the fiesta turned into concern for the beggar who had mysteriously appeared unconscious at the town plaza.

“He must have wandered to the center of town by accident last night,” Hermana Sebia proposed.

“Yes, but how did the _guardia civil_ not see him? Shouldn’t they have been patrolling?” replied Capitana Barang, who was pouring her friend some tea at their house.

“Ay, I don’t know!”

Ysagani himself did not know how to feel. He knew of Tano through Basilio’s stories, but he had never met him despite them living on the outskirts of Tiani. He had heard that he was conscripted into the _guardia civil_ when he was young, and that he was sent away to the Caroline Islands before returning two years ago.

“His mind has unraveled,” Basilio confided in Ysagani during their walk together that night. They were making their rounds along the town plaza as usual, trying to ground their lives with some semblance of normalcy.

“I pity him,” Ysagani replied.

“Yes. His family is all dead,” Basilio replied. He became visibly somber, Ysagani noted. He was probably thinking about his sweetheart Juli.

“What do you plan to do with him?”

“He is to stay here for the time being. I will try to contact his relatives in San Diego.”

“How will you do that?”

“Atty. Paquito has a telegram machine. We can use it to contact the gobernadorcillo, who can relay our words to his relatives.”

“You know them?” Ysagani asked.

“No, but I know they exist. Juli’s told me that they have many uncles and aunts - their father’s siblings.”

“I hope they respond. He needs support.”

“That is true,” Basilio replied. Ysagani noticed his mind seemed occupied again.

“...What are you thinking about?”

“Oh. Just about Tano. He was kind to me. He played with me when I stayed with his family, teaching me how to catch dragonflies.”

“Let me know if there’s anything I can help with.”

Basilio paused for a moment, as if thinking.

“There is! Your uncle taught you how to play the harmonium, correct? Perhaps you could come over and entertain him with your music.”

“I shall try,” Ysagani replied. “I’ve gone years without practice already, though.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Basilio said. “I know I can depend on you.”

 

Despite the townspeople having been shaken by the incident before, the town fiesta honoring St. Abel still took place. The ladies came out in their best _sayas_ , while the men dressed up in impeccable _barongs_. There was a mass (Fray Agaton, thankfully, did not push the missal), followed by a procession and a performance by the band. Cecilia, the Star of Pili, had showed her face in public again; she was well, to the townspeople’s relief, although Ysagani could see a hint of sadness on her face. Fray Florentino also went around blessing houses, where he was graciously entertained by the people; they had prepared only their best food for visitors, and Fray Florentino was one of the first to try the dishes.

Following the end of the festivities, Ysagani visited again the house of Dr. Lopez. He was concerned not only for Tano, but for his friend, whom he knew would work tirelessly until Tano was well. Ysagani entered the foyer and went into the clinic, where he saw Tano sleeping on the bed as Basilio watched over him.

“How is he?”

“He’s been eating a lot, which is a good sign. His condition’s been improving.”

“And his mind?”

“He’s been a bit more lucid. Right before he went to sleep I was able to speak with him.”

“What did he say?”

Basilio paused, his expression turning serious.

“He said he saw his father and grandfather die in front of him. He wants to know where Juli is.”

Ysagani was silent. He knew Basilio’s heart still mourned Juli. She was only twenty when she died.

“Do you know what happened to him?” Ysagani asked.

“This is partly conjecture, but I think he was among the _guardia civil_ who got into an encounter with Matanglawin’s bandits. Some of the revolutionaries had told me about that incident; it was where Matanglawin died.”

Ysagani was again silent. Basilio had brought up the revolution, the one he had been planning all that time since the wedding of Paulita. The one he had given up thanks to Ysagani’s persuasion.

“I’m sorry. I should not have mentioned–”

“It’s alright, my friend,” Ysagani reassured him. “So what will happen to him now?”

“I’ve already sent the telegram to San Diego’s _gobernadorcillo_. Tano’s relatives are coming to pick him up tomorrow.”

“Will he be safe with them?”

“They’re his family, so I suppose so.”

“Do you know any of them?”

“Mostly Tano’s aunts and cousins. His uncles were always out in the fields when I stayed with them.”

Ysagani gave Basilio a puzzled expression.

“Ah, I apologize. I forgot to explain. The day Crispin disappeared, my mother went into town to fetch him. Then, I saw Constabulary soldiers in the distance and, fearing them, I ran away in the direction of Tiani. I eventually collapsed out of exhaustion and was found by Tano’s grandfather, Old Selo, who took me into his home. There I stayed for two months. That was where I met Tano, Juli, their sister Lucia, their mother, and all their cousins.”

Ysagani had known Basilio’s tale, although he realized he had skipped over some parts. He did not want to hurt his friend by bringing back the past, but he wanted to know more.

“They were kind to you, yes?”  
“They were,” Basilio said, smiling. “They let me eat with them as if I was one of their own, and treated me as their flesh and blood. They were so generous, and did not treat me as a nuisance even though I could not help around the house that much. Those two months were one of the happiest in my life.”

Ysagani noticed Basilio was smiling, even though he was thinking about a family that included his departed sweetheart Juli.

“I visited them again, you now. Back when we were students. Capitan Tiago sent me to fetch some documents in his old house in San Diego, and I decided to visit them as well. I had obtained the documents and finished my errands by midday, and I had enough time before the ferry left that afternoon, so I walked to their house. I had heard that Matang- sorry, Cabesang Tales, had developed some land between San Diego and Tiani, and that they were living in that area. When I finally arrived, I found Old Selo in his house, and asked where everyone else was. He told me Tano was in Tiani with his father doing errands, while Juli was out in the fields, picking flowers.”

“And so you went out to look for her?”

“Yes. I saw the flower fields in the distance, and walked to that direction. I saw Juli standing in the middle of the fields. She saw me as well and ran to me, embracing me and telling me I had been gone for so long. That was when I knew.”

“Knew what?” Ysagani asked.

Basilio’s voice broke, and tears welled up in his eyes. “That I loved her.”


	6. The Unfortunate

The following morning, Ysagani saw a carromata roll into the town square on his way to Capitan Panchong’s house. He had meant to visit Cecilia, but stopped midway to see if the carromata indeed carried Tano’s relatives. Surely enough, two men and a woman got off and waited; Dr. Lopez and Basilio then showed themselves, walking alongside Tano. Tano’s relatives rushed to him, embracing him and showering him with kisses. It was a sorry sight, and Ysagani’s heart bled for the family. He then watched as Tano boarded the carromata along with the relatives. As the carromata went on its way, Basilio spotted Ysagani and, nodding to Dr. Lopez, went towards him.

“Ah, so you saw the entire thing. We had wanted to make it as discreet as possible. You know how the townspeople gossip,” Basilio complained.

“Especially that Hermana Sebia,” Ysagani joked.

Basilio laughed.

“Where were you going?”

“I was on my way to visit Cecilia.”

“Why, is she unwell?”

“I don’t think so. She showed herself at the fiesta, but I swear I could see some sort of sadness on her face. I’m just concerned.”

“You are a good friend, Isagani. Go and visit her,” Basilio said.

“I will,” Ysagani said, patting Basilio’s shoulder as a gesture of affection before parting ways with him.

 

Ysagani waited a bit, as it was still morning, before actually going to Capitan Panchong’s house. He knocked on the door and was welcomed in by Capitana Barang.

“Ay, Señor Ysagani! Come in, come in!” she said graciously. 

“Thank you, Capitana. Is Cecilia awake?” Ysagani asked. He sat down at the dining table with the woman.

“Yes, although I’m afraid she’s shut herself in her room again. That hysterical girl!” Capitana Barang complained.

“But Capitana, I’m sure there’s some reason. Did she not shut herself in a few months ago as well?”

“She always gets like this whenever Fray Agaton comes to visit and gives her confession. I don’t know what’s wrong with her! The cura is always friendly to her.”

Ysagani pretended to nod in argument.

“May I speak with her?”

“I will go upstairs and tell her you are here. Perhaps she will come out if it is you,” Capitana Barang said, going up the stairs. As she was a loud woman, Ysagani could hear her even from where he was - she knocked on Cecilia’s door and told her he had come to visit.

Before long, Capitana Barang came back downstairs.

“Please, go upstairs, hijo! She is just waiting for you. Ay, that girl! She is so fickle!”

Ysagani went upstairs, and Cecilia came out of her room. They went out to the azotea, which was adorned with blooming bougainvilleas and other colorful flowers.

“I heard you had shut yourself in again. Are you ill? I became worried,” Ysagani began.

“I am… alright. You shouldn’t worry about me,” Cecilia said, pouting. “Besides, you are probably far too busy with that new friend of yours to worry about me.”

Ysagani knew she was talking about Basilio.

“I am sorry if I seemed too busy for you. Basilio has been through a great deal of things, and I am helping him recover.”

“I have been through a great deal of things myself!” Cecilia shouted. “That wretched priest has thrown himself at me every time he has come to visit the past few months!”

Cecilia began crying. Ysagani took out his handkerchief and dried her tears.

“I am so tired of this. I want it to end,” the young girl said miserably.

“You know how much power he has in this town. We cannot do anything about it,” Ysagani said, although in his heart of hearts he could feel his hatred for the Spanish friars returning. Those friars who had taken over his dream of establishing a school.

“I am glad you believe me,” Cecilia said tearfully. “I could not even tell my own mother about this.”

“I’m sorry I can’t do more,” Ysagani replied. He took her hand and gripped it tightly. Cecilia reddened and turned away. Perhaps she was in love with him after all, he thought.

“Our maid left,” Cecilia said, changing the subject. “It made me sad. I was friends with her, and I enjoyed playing with her daughter.”

“I heard she is happier now with the family of Capitan Tanukang,” Ysagani shared.

“They pay her more, I suppose… And Capitan Tanukang’s wife probably doesn’t sermon her as much as my mother did,” Cecilia said.

“Was that a joke?”  
“My attempt at one, yes,” Cecilia said, smiling.

The two fell to exchanging jokes and laughing about the other townspeople’s eccentricities. Despite Cecilia’s feelings complicating the situation, the two were genuinely good friends. Before long, Capitana Barang called the two down for some tsokolate, and their conversation was cut short.

 

After saying goodbye to Cecilia and leaving Capitan Panchong’s house, Ysagani then made his way to Dr. Lopez’ house to check on Basilio, whom he knew was tired from caring for Tano for the past two days. He knocked on the door, and, noticing it was unlocked, went inside. He then saw Basilio conversing with a woman he had never seen before. She looked to be about thirty years old, beautiful but with an air of sadness surrounding her.

“I’m sorry, Ka Lomeng, but– ah, Isagani.”

“Good day. May I know your name, Señora?” Ysagani said, addressing the woman, who eyed him suspiciously.

“I am Salome,” she said, introducing herself. “Is he to be trusted, Basilio?”

“Yes. He is my closest friend, Isagani,” Basilio explained.

“That is good. Then perhaps he will be sympathetic to our cause.”

“It is not like that–”

“I will return in two days’ time, Basilio. You have until then to think of your answer,” Salome said, before leaving promptly.

“Who was that?”

“It is a long story. But she is the woman leading a group of bandits near here.”

“Different from the ones led by Cabesang Tales?”

“Yes. These were the ones under the man known as Capitan Pablo.”

“And how do you know her?”

“She and my mother were friends,” Basilio said. “She would sometimes come by and walk with my mother to the market.”

“What is she doing here, then?”

“She must have heard I had moved here. She came by to… recruit me into an uprising.”

“Basilio!” Ysagani said, taken aback.

“I am no longer the man I once was, my friend! My heart had been so full of bitterness before, but you helped mend it by spending time with me in this town. But, I cannot simply turn her down. Salome is an old friend. And she has just told me, they will need a doctor to tend to the wounded once the uprising begins.”

“Where will the uprising take place? Dios mio!”

“In the town next to this one, Tulig,” Basilio explained. “They plan on taking it over and driving the Spaniards out, and once they do…”

“They will move onto this one,” Ysagani replied.

“That is correct.”

“This is a delicate situation,” Ysagani remarked. “What has Dr. Lopez said about this?”

“He says he will support whatever I decide to do. If I join, then he will contribute funds, but if I do not, then he will also remain uninvolved.”

“We will find a way out of this,” Ysagani reassured him. “I’m sure we will.”


End file.
